When it comes to airplanes, boats, cars, and roller coasters, I'm a puker. I'm incredibly prone to motion sickness, which is something that I've struggled with for most of my life. I still remember the first time I puked from motion sickness. I believe I was 9 years old, and I was on a ride called the Octopus at the Gopher Count celebration in Viola, MN. I was crammed into the little car with two of my friends and we were spinning spinning spinning. Up and down and all around...spinning spinning spinning. I was having the time of my life...until I suddenly felt violently ill and started puking up funnel cake and cheese curds all over myself, the little ride car, and very nearly, my friends. They, of course, started panicking, trying to get the attention of the ride operator. Unfortunately he was under the impression that their screaming and arm waving meant that we wanted to go faster. In what felt like an hour but was probably less than a minute, he figured out that we were in distress and stopped the ride (and didn't bother to clean out that car for the rest of the day). And thus started my tumultuous relationship with all things in motion.
Boats are the worst. There are two occasions in which I've been motion sick on a boat, and both of them were horrific. Unfortunately they also occurred in some pretty awesome places. The first was on a halibut fishing boat in Alaska. Pretty sure I overdosed on Dramamine that day, and still managed to puke violently over the side of the boat whenever I happened to be awake. My friends got a fish on the line and let me reel it in between pukings, which was super nice of them. At least I can say I caught one, right? The second time was during a snorkeling trip gone awry in the Florida Keys. Had I known that the trip was also going to include scuba divers, who require deeper water than us lowly snorkelers, I wouldn't have consented to the trip. But...this wasn't revealed until we were already on our way out to the big water. I was fine while the boat was moving, but the minute it stopped and the rollers took hold, I was in trouble. Thinking that I would be okay if I could just get in the water, I hopped in...and the nausea didn't stop. Not wanting to throw up in the middle of the ocean, I hurriedly got back on the boat, where I proceeded to retch over the side of the boat for the next 3 hours. One nice thing about that...the fish in the ocean love vomit, so while I was spewing my guts, they were furiously coming to the surface to devour my stomach contents...so at least I had something to look at. I will be eternally grateful to my friend Carmen for explaining to me that I needed to keep eating in order to keep puking...doesn't sound like it makes sense, but trust me...if you're motion sick and puking, you're not going to stop retching just because your stomach is empty. It feels so much better to throw something up rather than sit there and dry heave. Luckily I don't go on boats all that often...airplanes, however, are another matter.
I've puked on airplanes more times than I can remember, which has gotten to be more frequent, seeing as I fly so much these days. I puked in the plane on my most recent trip to Minnesota. On the 20 minute flight from Flagstaff to Phoenix. You'd think that I'd be able to hold off on that short of a flight...but no, there I was, tossing my cookies (cashews, actually) amongst an entirely full flight. The one saving grace I have is that I'm a quiet puker. People who have born witness to my retching have commented that they don't even know I'm puking until they see the vomit. Which I guess is a good thing if I'm going to find myself puking in crowded areas.
Poor Simon. He's had to bear witness to me puking on planes multiple times now, and he's still willing to fly with me. He sits there stoically next to me, knowing that it's not okay to rub my back before or during the puking, but that it's okay and welcomed afterwards. He's even gotten into the habit of making sure that there are puke bags readily available whenever we get on a plane.
Cars are hit or miss...people have commented throughout the years about how I'm always the one driving while Simon sits passenger. This is multi-factorial, having a bit to do with my control issues and Simon's indifference to driving, but it's mostly due to the fact that I don't get motion sick when I'm driving. I've even driven other people's cars if I know that we're going to be on a road that's more curvy than your average interstate...it's just better to have me drive rather than clean my vomit out of the car.
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